sirenspull | † ONE [voice] - backdated to Friday morning

See you soon. [ And, yes, he is seeing her for the first time, really. As he hurries along, Sam steals furtive glances at the screen, breath catching with the pain of it all. He hadn't known what to expect when he rolled onto that baseball diamond, but this wasn't it.

Before too long, he's standing at the door, and it's only then that he hangs up the phone. After taking a few, steadying breaths, the younger Winchester pushes open the door, hand white with his grip around the knob. He steps hesitantly into the lobby, glancing around, heart pounding in his ears. ]

... Mom? It's Sam.

Sam?

[She's by the elevator across the lobby when he calls. Mary turns around, heart in her throat, suddenly unable to breathe.]

Oh my god, Sam.

[Her doubts melt away suddenly. The doubts, the fears, the post-traumatic horrors that have her jumping at shadows- it doesn't matter, because the one person she needed to see is here and she couldn't ever do anything in this moment except to run across the room and throw her arms around him.]

I'm not dreaming. Thank god.

[ He has a very similar reaction, though he isn't able to make the first move, as his legs are frozen to the ground, as if they're made of lead. When she crashes into him, he inhales sharply, having half-expected her to bust into a cloud of smoke, and disappear again. But, she's real, holding onto him, and he returns the embrace with fervor before he can even really process it. ]

This is-- [ He breathes, and though he means to add 'real,' the word doesn't materialize. Sam just tightens his grip around her, as if holding fast to her now will rewrite history, wipe clean everything that's happened. ]

Mom, I'm... I'm sorry. I'm so... so sorry.

No- no, baby, no. [Babbling over and over into his shoulder, straining on her tip-toes to try and get closer.] Shh, don't be sorry, it's not your fault, I'm so sorry.

[Her breathless reassurances pour over into apologies wrenched from deep inside her, a place too vulnerable and real for her to handle right now. She buries her face in his shoulder and makes a broken sound like she's about to sob.]

[ He hunches slightly, just so she doesn't have to stretch up so far. Still, he's mostly focused on the almost overwhelming feeling of grief that's welled up inside him. And, all at once, it's too much. ]

I-- you were killed, because of me. And there's nothing--

[ He cuts off, choking up, drawing short, broken breaths. The two make quite a pair, holding each other for dear life, lost in the what-ifs. ]

I can't, I still can't... do anything... to save you.

[More than anything, hearing him sob about it being his fault drives it home that this isn't the Sam who left here before. This is maybe a younger Sam, maybe older- but newer somehow, purer. He's somehow lighter than she's ever seen him, even falling apart in his grief like this. This different pain that she can do something about - because for once in the year she's known Sam, she knows she can do something to make him hurt less. Her heart aches like it never has before for him and she pulls him tighter, stroking his hair soothingly, trying to be everywhere at once and hug him tight enough to keep the whole world out.]

No, Sam, don't, it wasn't your fault. [She cups his face in her hands and pulls away enough to look him right in the eyes, tears shining unshed in her own.] I died because of me. Sam, I'd make that choice again a thousand times if it would've saved you. Please, honey, don't make this your fault.

[ She's comforting, yes, more than she could ever realize. Just knowing that she's alive, here and now, standing in front of him... there's a stinging in his eyes, and he focuses on keeping his jaw set determinedly as he blinks away tears. This is his chance to keep her safe, to make sure nothing happens to her again. So, he swallows the lump in his throat, nodding firmly to what she's saying, taking a mental vow. ]

... Thank you. For everything.

[ He envelopes her again in an embrace, arms wrapped around her, eyes shut tight. ]

... I can't believe this.

[She folds into the hug, holding him almost fiercely.]

Believe it. [Stroking his hair soothingly.] I'm here. I'm here. This is real.

[ He's not sure how long he stands there, just trying to take in the fact that this is real, and not another nightmare, where everything twists and melts away into flame and smoke. He swallows, hard, and pulls back, searching her face, as if trying to put together a mental picture that will never, ever fade. ]

Are you-- I mean, are you alright? How long've you been here?

Ten months.

[She won't answer the first question. Instead, Mary takes his hand gently and starts pulling him towards the elevator.]

Come on. They should have given you an apartment by now.

[ Wow. His eyes widen slightly in surprise. ] Really?

[ And now she's pulling him toward the elevator, okay-- ]

Mom, I-- [ He cuts off momentarily, and then his grip around her hand tightens. ] ... It's really, really good to see you.

[Oh, ow. She stops dead in her tracks and looks back at him, taking in his familiar face, those heartbreakingly sincere eyes, and her eyes water a little.]

I know. [She blinks back the tears that she still hasn't cried.] I love you, sweetie.

[She squeezes his hand gently, and presses the elevator button.]

I love you, too. [ He says softly, as they move into the elevator. Any second, he'll wake up, and this'll be another dream. That's what he has to tell himself, so he's not disappointed and miserable when it happens... ]

What's the name of this place, again?

Siren's Port.

[She pushes the button for a floor she knows is full of only empty apartments, and the doors close.]

I know, it's a bad joke. This place is as much fun as a real siren.

[ A real siren. It's so bizarre to hear her bring it up. And he doesn't really want to add on, himself, but the words sort of spill out... ]

So, I guess you know... about the hunting.

[ Sorry, Mom. So, so sorry. ]

Yeah... [She frowns slightly.] You know about me, don't you?

[Oh man, what if he doesn't? What time is he even from?]

... Yeah. [ He frowns slightly, in return. ] Dean told me.

[ He hasn't seen it for himself. Not yet. ]

Okay.

[She starts to talk, but the elevator dings. She leads him out into the hallway with a frown and lets herself into Dean's apartment.]

Come on, this is where Dean's staying.

[Mary steers him to the couch, sits him down, and looks at him, trying valiantly not to cry. One hand goes to his cheek, the other clasping his hand on his knee, eyes searching his intently.]

Sam. I want you to understand that I made every decision that brought that demon into that nursery. You were just a baby. I made that bed and I am so sorry that you were forced to lie in it.

[ No. Nonononono, she's apologizing for what he did to her, and he can't. Sam's eyes again sting with withheld tears, and he draws a stuttered breath before countering her, scrambling to find the right words. ]

No. Mom, you... this is my fault, and I'm... I'm the reason that monster was there, and you didn't deserve that. You could've lived, like you were supposed to.

[ There's a twinge of anger, at himself. She deserved to live a thousand times over, whereas he was the demon-blooded kid, the one who should've been dead for years. It would've been better that way. ]

No. [It comes out as a hiss.] No. Sam.

[She shakes her head earnestly, her hand working into his hair and gripping him tighter, as she brings him closer to make sure he gets every forced-out word.]

I made a deal with a demon. I was- an adult, and I should have known better. [She takes a labored breath, struggling not to hate herself too much. Not to cry.] My parents raised me to know better. Even worse, I made a deal where the terms were unclear. I didn't even know what I was bargaining- all I knew was that in ten years, that demon would be back to take something he said I wouldn't miss.

[She's gritting her teeth in anger, grief, a thousand different facets of pain shining in her eyes at the sound of her own child (Sam) apologizing for living that night.]

I made that deal and that's why the demon came for you at all. It couldn't have gotten in the house if it weren't for me. [She tries to blink back tears but it's too late, they're stinging her eyes and burning her cheeks with every word.] I am so sorry. I walked into the the nursery that night and saw a demon bent over my baby's crib and- I thought he was taking you. Sam, I would have done the same thing over again, a thousand different times. Sam, please don't blame yourself for me ruining your life, please.

[She wouldn't normally fall apart like this, but her mental stability was hanging by a thread when he got here, and this combination of triggers and traumas has pushed her into full-on crying while holding him and gripping his hand like she means to break it.]

No-- Mom, no. [ He's definitely his mother's son. ] You didn't-- there's no way you ruined my life. There's not-- I--

[ He has to look away a minute, mouth twisted in an attempt to keep out the dry sob that's lodged in his throat. That she could possibly think she'd ruined his life when, despite what she's said, he was the reason she had been killed? ]

That's not it. [ Does she know? She has to. ] It's not just that, I'm... People die around me. All the time. People I love. And it's because of me, not them. I'm this twisted, messed-up thing, and it's always going to come back to me.

[ He swallows, grief building in his throat, burning him like acid. ]

I'm Lucifer's vessel. [ His heart pounds with the meaning of his words, ones he just heard so, so recently. ] No matter what happened in the nursery, I'm sure-- I'm sure something would've happened to you, to everyone. To get to me, to make me into--

[ He cuts off, unable to go on. ]

... I shouldn't be here, right. I'm putting you in danger again.

Sam. [Sharply- shockingly so.] Stop it. You are not going anywhere, do you understand me? You will not leave me- [again.] -or John. [Nice save.] Don't do that. Don't put that on yourself.

[She forces herself to soften, unsuccessfully. Whatever the truth may be in her words, it's obvious that there's something less than okay about Mary.]

Jessica was not your fault, and neither was I.

[Her hand tightens around his.]

Nobody forced Azazel and Lucifer to do what they did. You can't blame anyone but them, sweetie. You weren't even born yet when I sold away your future.

Sam, you can't lay this all on yourself. You didn't do anything to deserve the hand life dealt you. Our family is cursed because I cursed it. It's nothing you did wrong.

Edited 2012-08-07 05:41 (UTC)

[ Jessica. Oh, God, no. His throat closes up with the shock of the word, his mind flitting immediately back to when he'd first encountered Lucifer, how the bastard had taken her form. Brief, hot anger flares up in his stomach, mingling with the grief of everything, and he has to take a moment to breathe, to let things settle, before he can speak again. ]

If you hadn't saved Dad, I wouldn't even be here at all. [ Well, it's true. ] ... We've all made choices, right? And, for better or worse...

[ He turns back to her, expression softening, some of the angst of earlier finally ebbing. ]

If there's no blame on me, then there's no way that there's any on you. You were just trying to protect your family, every time.

[ Sam squeezes her hand, gently. ]

Thank you. For that. For everything.

† ONE [voice] - backdated to Friday morning

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